First Blood
by petalsofpain
Summary: Hm... I am trying again. Another one where Ranma is to be different thanks to... killing. very early killing too. Um... this is an AU that is to be shaped as a major divergence. And well don't be brutal, english is not my first language.
1. Chapter 1

First Blood

The rain was the first thing that was noticeable in the grayened glow that was the skies last ray of light fading away. Putting little flickering droplets all around the visual field it was making sure that the sounds of its presence were only to be the second element of sensation that was put to use. Trees were all over in a messy sort of way not following any pattern at all. Along the ground the last little ray of undying light coming from the deadened for the day sun worms were crawling against the flow of the rainwater streaming in the direction of the depths to which they belonged once more. Only the worms were there making it a very desolate scene for those that were there. Not that there were that many there though…

Hunched crying or more like whimpering in the rain the slight figure that huddled in the protective spot underneath that of a great oak tree hid his fears and thoughts from himself. Not much was visible of his face the way that he had folded his arms in front of himself as a shield. His fists hidden under his arms just like his face they were trembling with a level of fright not supposed to exist for one so young.

There were no birds flying in the skies the rain pouring to heavily to take that chance even the hawks were gone not daring to do anything in the face of the thunderous downpour that was steadily streaming down from the clouds above nearer to the ground than ever before. There was a kind of ominousness to the darkened skies as if they were threatening to burst forth an even greater downpour than what was already there. The trees buckling in the sheer weight of the water that was the skies failing to take to keeping the distance to the earth that was its antithesis. Even the great oak was whimpering in the strain that was imposed upon it by the storm. Even though it held its way better than the majority of greater trees in the woods. Splinters of its bark were crackling giving of a sound that was eerily similar to that of limbs shattering under the weight of blows of a more mortal nature. Not that the effect of the storm would be that much different…

Feeling the tremors from the tree in a muted form carrying through the trunk of the tree Ranma scrunched his eyes open and ignored the grime that was one his arms pushing at his eyes. Using skills that he was not born with he shed off the emotions that were running their course through his immature frame his arms fell limply to his sides giving him a clear view to appreciate the shadows of the lightning colouring the sky. Three major gashes were thrombosing on his right cheek straining at his chin even almost digging deep enough to reach his gums. Like whisker marks. Leaning forward he disengaged himself from the trunk of the tree his shadowed eyes gleaming in the never ending lightshow of the thunderstorm a lack of purpose to them the one thing that bore to be noticed.

A little twistch to that of his shoulders was what made the figure that he cut stand once more. Paler than even whitened pus that was lingering on his shoulders from the infected cut that rested there that was the colour of his skin. No emotions there sides' a laxness that wasn't born from ones own volition. Botoxed they were that his chins. His clothes a mess clung to his skin revealing the state of nourishment to be not satisfactorily digging into his sides at every shallow breath that he took. Still he stood there not moving from his spot just yet the thoughts that were not able to form in his head forcing him to remain immotile staring emptily ahead.

He couldn't remember what had made him hide under the tree or what hade taken away his ability to think coherently past the point where he would be able to make conclusions based on the present in conjunction with whatever had happened in the past. Thinking hard thoughts came to his mind reminding him more of whom he was rather than what he had been doing. Frustrated as he was by the not so encouraging progress that he was making getting his head under his own control he still nodded along with every little piece of information that came to him about himself as he drew upon the thoughts of who he was to sort of find a focus for finding out the status of things. Still even that came with a price.

Wincing at the unbidden announcement of pain that came from his shoulders only to radiate as if inversely, to his minds eyes that is, along his entire back to reach his legs making him stumble for the first time taking a step forward failing to keep his balance a light splashing sound tearing through his once more closed eyes with the images of the water streaming into the muddy grasses. Feeling the weight of his eyelids from that of the rain that was falling in a steadily increasingly potent manner he felt the reiterance of pain claim his physical self once more as the crampings struck him like a lightning bolt searing through his spine. His face a mockery of the state of emergency that he was in flapped with his cheeks wobbling about with little tone in the musculature at all speaking of a far more dangerous level of damage being dealt somewhere to that of the youth. Arching his back even more in a silent shudder cracks were heard his spine not withstanding the duress that was imposed on him as he spasmed the muscles failing to hold the hypercontractile state any longer.

Splattering to the ground his listless frame convulsed slowly with little freedom of movement his breathing somehow miraculously spared the treatment that the rest of his body was given. Still it was the end phase to the seizure that he had endured. Slight as he was he was easily fatigued from the strain on his physique. Bubbles forming from the spittle that remained on his face from the mixture that was growing on the ground his face covered from view once more sinking into the ground below.

Sleep would take him there and then. What had been dealt to his little body was the inhumane punishment that he himself had wished for. How that had to come he would never ever come to remember when under conscious control of his own state of mental awareness level.

If he wouldn't have fallen there and then he would have appreciated the scar in the clouds that was growing to the south of his point of … sleeping? Or something like that since the rain wasn't there anymore. The way that the strongest storms are the hurricane abated to leave the mountain ranges visible as giant sun-catchers getting the warmth of the once again omnipresent sun daring its way back. As if the idea of life was something that drove it to its greatness it was reflected in the way that the vegetations were making themselves known as if immortal in their flaring in the direction of the sun completely opposing the weight of the rainstorm that had been there not so long ago.

Still in the birth of something new the pains that had been claimed by the storm were apparent all over. Tree flung across trees dug out by their roots trunks of trees decimated by the thundering strikes from the heavens more frequent than what was comfortable to the human psyche. Still the animals were making their best attempt at a vanishing act upon it birdsong and other sounds hacking away at anything that could have been interpreted back to the sorrows that the storm had harvested.

Empty looking was the gaze that Genma bore. He wouldn't be the one to let his son know. He had never born the ability for such a task. Snorting lightly he paused in front of the mess that his son was. He could discern the gentle breathing that signified life so he wasn't that bothered anymore. Still he would have to make sure that they would get on with things once more. He had been chasing his son for the longest time. After Ranma had let off he hadn't been able to catch him for the longest time. Initially that hadn't worried him…

No worries were on his face now as he flung Ranma over his shoulders once more. "We go, we go, and we go…" Almost whistling Genma wasn't in the least attuned to the changes that had taken place to that of his son in the aftermath of that last little training 'experiment' that he had sent his son on. 'The death of an innocent.' The thought silenced him though. Lying to himself had never been that forced an exercise of keeping the mind at bay from the horrors that insanity brings. He would never think back to the occasion that was the origin of that latest of mishaps in the years to come either. The virtue of his sons mind was a brittle thing that he cared not for in the least. The aptitude of his physical reactions was one thing that he would praise over a quick mind and a healthy soul any time any day over it. A slight smirk for the first time there once more on his face he made his way towards civilization once more. He needed to find a doctor to take care of the deep infected gouges in his sons back. "A five year old can only take that much abuse." 'Weak! Hah!' The smile on his face was belying the true intents that his actions had taken upon.


	2. Chapter 2

Genma Saotome isn't exactly the most humane of fathers. What he wants for himself he looks for in the achievements of others. He will not be the one that falls back to honour the dead, no he is the one that remains to gather the loot and to establish himself whatever the situation. He will be the one that shoots the arrows that are only aiming for the back. What he traded for this was a very frail understanding for the plight of others. Still it was never enough to erase the joy that he felt in the accomplishments that his son was able to pull through. Time and time again he had seen to it that the mask that covered his face whenever needed just barely let through appreciation and warmth. This would have normally been enough to rear Ranma to become the martial artist that he wished him to become.

Not this time.

At the age of eight Ranma had been thrown into the pit of the cats. That only happened once. Not that Ranma became any better from it no. That wasn't what made it a failure. The Cat fist is said to imbue cat like qualities onto that of the trainee that was able to successfully master the technique. That never happened…

On very few occasions were Genma the one to be waiting for the verdict on his Son's health care. This time there was no other option left. Standing just outside the door to the ICU Genma Saotome was also for the first time forced to reminisce. As hard as the task was for someone of his beliefs it was not to be escaped. Wracked with guilt it was to unconfomfortable to even breathe the same air as those that he saw not himself in. Guilt was there in the very air that he breathed. Words of power to him that he was to ignore otherwise were there even. It had taken time for this state of emergency to settle in Genma's mind. In the beginning the room that he was seated in was nothing other than a mere room. He had dutifully noted all the dimensions of the room and the locations of all the exits and entrances to it in case there would be the need for a quick escape. He even remembered the excuse that he had given the police officer that had interviewed him on the possible perpetrator that was to blame for the faith that had befallen the boy. All these events had been taken care of and archived in his memory for easy utilization should the situation demand it. What he had not known to happen was that he had started to remember things. Pain one of them. His own pain more than any other even…

Looking at his calloused hands as they were folded in his laps taking in the thickened ridges not very much unlike that of canyons and valleys in nature so typical of the Japanese country side he saw details that spoke to him. What was the real cost to his life? What was the real cost to his sons life? What was he doing??! The popping veins taking on a life of its own slithering almost like a snake across his dorsum of his hand as he flexed and unflexed his fingers spoke to him of vitality and life. 'I am so very much alive…' Thinking and seeing things as if for the first time he traced along the veins that were spreading from his fingers running in the direction of his heart with his other hand. He had to halt with his right hand over his heart. It was beating rapidly. The reason for that was one that he wished not to face. Yet that was not an option that he was given. Turning his head around looking over his left shoulder in the direction of the door that he was sitting to the side of he could hear the beeping of the machinery. His son would be given only one day more of this. The costs were to great for him to afford without putting an abrupt end to…

Even though the thought made him pause it wasn't hurting as bad as he thought. 'Another thing. May… be… more important.' He had to turn back. His neck was hurting already from the overextension that he had put it through. His head hurt. Blood was streaming through his skull at a pace that he knew not to be anything special yet for some reason he felt it to be. He felt old. He felt out of touch. He felt… guilty.

Biting back a sob he was hiding his face already. Tears were not possible to stop from streaming any longer. No words were needed to describe what he was feeling. Longing for an other. Guilt for actions taken. Pain for loss. Fear.

Genma Saotome was lost in himself.

The machines that were supporting his breathing were doing an admirable job of creating an atmosphere that was so unnatural as to keep away the prying hands of overly concerned parents. This wasn't needed this time but they had been very much needed for the guaranteed survival of one Ranma Saotome no longer than five minutes ago. As his breathing came to be in tune with that of the driven air that came from the airpump that was stuck through his throat he forced the nauseating feeling away to time the breathing till he was strong enough to be able to slide it right out. Doing so he felt the bandages that were wrapped around his chest for the first time as they held in his exaggerated compensating breaths…

It took him a minute to be able to sit up right in the bed. It wasn't that his recovery was anything supernatural other than a bit accelerated. He was still weaker than a kitten in certain ways. It was just the way that he was. The pain that was supposed to be there was muted. He felt not the pain in the same sense as you and me. Pained breaths weren't there. Wheezing came to a halt even though his lungs were once punctured. The sutures that were there to prevent the holes in his chest from causing pneumothorax weren't stretched his breathing to even to manage to shatter against the motion.

Ranma was cool, in control of all senses, and they mattered not to him in the least. Even though he was tired he didn't yawn or stretch his brittle feeling limbs. Bedweary he didn't move about. Instead he listened. To hear what was beyond the four walls, ceiling, and floor of his room. He was still.

It took some time for the sobs of the older martial artist to die out. No comfort was to be found alone. For the last five minutes he had been standing up still whimpering of course holding on to the door handle. He hadn't been able to open the door even the slightest. They had said that Ranma was heavily sedated and wouldn't be able to know that he was there. A chemically induced coma… It hadn't frightened him then. It did now, after all what was it that he would see if he were to open the door and to step in to the room? The question was the one thing on his mind as he took to noticing ever more detail surrounding the handle it being the one thing that would count.

He had heard the man that was at the door. It was someone that he knew very well. Yet. 'Why is he? No it isn't him that is crying.' The thought had been enough to stop the thinking in its paths. He would settle in looking at the ceiling. There was nothing to be gained from thinking on this. He was to weak to act upon this without incapacitating himself to far. The stitches he knew intuitively to be of a greater import than that of the figure that was hulking at the door with his right hand enveloping it. He did smile at his ability to gauge the situation. 'I am not stupid at the very least, meaning my brain, my face are alrite!' Normally it wasn't something that would bring a smile to the face of the dedicated Ranma Saotome. For some reason it did this time. Maybe he saw worth in those traits that he carried this time around. It was not to be wasted time on this time however. His eyes once more closed he fell victim to the sleep of the dead. The dreams were nothing to his body. The disconnection was complete. He was at ease with himself and the world.

The presence of a doubt.

Genma Saotome knew himself to never ever be the kind of a man that was of his own word. What he did to those that fed him was to betray them evermore. Only one was there in a way that transcended that little level. Yet even that one was to be denied the honesty that he was, able to give.

The moment that he stepped into the room with Ranma he saw the most curious of things. It was enough to make him exit the stupor that he was in only a minute ago. 'Ranma is smiling!' It wasn't enough to make him smile in turn yet it was something that mattered more to him than anything else in this very moment. His mouth in the shape of an O it let no sound out to betray his knowledge of the state of affairs. At least that is what he saw it as. Knowledge, something that he could act upon. Enough to change all that mattered not. It was a mere second before they were both outside the room. A testament to the skill that he still possessed none of the stitches that were frail on the sides of his son were ruptured even the least. Skills in abundance... That was what finally drew out a smirk from those ravaged lips that he possessed. And they were out.

It was a whole week before the training resumed with the intensity that Genma saw as true. Even now they were sparring in a clearing not far from the hospital. He hadn't threatened the boy this time. He knew it not to be needed. A different kind of respect had grown from that incident. As he went about the training he was for the first time preparing to set upon ways that he knew to be beyond the boundaries that he had been aiming for initially in the training that he had envisioned for the boy. There was a different focus that he saw to this time. Killing...


	3. Chapter 3

Forte

Years were different this time around for the young still Saotome. What had been the tremendous change that had come to his life was the embrace of the hunt. So many experiences that had come to define the perspective from which he gazed at the world. Straining at all times his perceptions it was, that way that the blood had brought him. Still he had settled for the anima to quench for the sake to be that of animals. Not that he would go for needless killing in the search for perfection of the arts that he was a part of. No he would look for the greatest challenge revel in it and all the strife that came from it. The chinese Jungle held many beasts that were there to entice his struggle in the direction of killing. To be bred to be a warrior. Those were the words that had chimed in him from his father. Genma had been the only one to partake in this part of the training that he had come upon. Every lethal technique that required an inventive degree of accuracy was to be recreated on the hide of an animal all the while under the weight of whatever handicap that was to be applied to increase the outcome of every struggle...

Only two years had passed that way before they were once more in the japanese isles. Ukyo was to be the first one to encounter that strangeness that Ranma had become.

Trotting along the road that was the japanese countryside Ranma and Genma made quite the pair. The heaviness that was there in Ranma was equally reflected in his father the two of them seemingly drowning the light of the settling sun. Steps taken were easy for the two even though they seemed to be even more in ease to that of the observer their limbs not really making moves to signify the distances that they were traversing. It was in that manner that they were moving towards that of Greater Kyoto or whatever they had been told by the village elder that had greeted them at the fisher village they had been at the last time that they had come upon civilization. That had been a crucial event though. Genma had taken pains to assure that Ranma came of as a normal member of the human race giving Ranma a haircut and himself getting shaved. Their clothes were for the first time that of the anime...

For Ukyo's father the sight that he was greeted by was one of promise. The youngling that was moving in the general direction of them was moving with a grace that was profound. He had never seen such a degree of agileness in one so young... Actually he had never seen such an agility in that of a human being period but that was something that he would never admit being one that found faith in the Christ. Looking at the young boy that was moving in their direction all the more he saw to it that Ukyo looked at the boy aswell. Gently pushing her of the cart he gave her a push in the direction of the boy not without a little incentive of course. "He'll play with you!" Twinkling his eyes with the mirth that he wished to project to his daughter he toyed with her faith in him. "That boy will play with you like it was you playing with your self!" The ideas seemingly taking on a relity beyond the mere words that he told her it seemed. Her eyes widening ever more she seemed to stretch her features to the point where amazement and wonder was the only emotion that could be felt from her. "Are you sure!" It wasn't a question what with the that the words came out from her cutely pouting lips. She was practically squeeling and the way that her eyes were darting fro and forth it was nothing there that didn't give away the interest that was growing in her. Her eyes taking off in the direction of that of the boy that was slinking along the road in their direction she saw the mystery therein. For the slightest of moments it seemed as if there was a hesitation to her. Yet that was over in less time than anything else and she seemed to steel her features if something like that was possible in one so young. She didn't even hear her fathers chuckling mirth welling over into the air. She heard only the thumping of her own strongly beating oh so convinced little heart.

What was to come of this?

Murmurs arising from the doubts that were in his mind his steps were the ones of a heathen. He was daring the very skies to damnation that he was. Flowing along the gravel roads Ranma felt a sense of strength flow through him and his thoughts from the ease that he felt not. Seeing things that he hadn't seen for the longest time he was floating along the road with the grace of a panther the agility of a snake and the purpose of a lion. All those beasts within him a mockery of the cat-fist he was a wonder to his own senses even. Peering through what he to his own imagination envisioned to be slitted pupils he saw for the first time the bubbly thing ahead. A... boy. His age even. It was a novel thing to him. It even forced a response that he knew not of. He could not subdue this response or even hide it. It drew his face into what he feared was a rictus of a smile. Heat flushing his cheeks he was looking all the more intently at the boy that was running in his direction. He could her his exclamations and jubilations. 'Or is that what they really are?' For the briefest moment he was confounded by the idea again and the flush was receding.

Only Ukyo was happier than him. Smiling her biggest smile whe told herself repeatedly that she was pushing her face to be wider than ever before. 'Yes this is me!!' Pausing to smirk at her own cleverness she was still running at full speed at the boy. She knew her father to have told her of the truth that she wished for more than anything. 'Yes! Play! Play!' Not that it made her any cleverer however...

Ranma was forced out of his reverie only to blink owlishly at the boy that now stood within a mere meter from him. 'Eh...' He wasn't being anymore clever either. "Grarggh!!" 'Fear me! I am the awesome pantherslayer!' He sure as hell didn't notice Genma slapping meaty hand to that of his forehead in acknowledgement of the lack of tact that was bread into that of the boy. "Who are ... you?" The words were hurried if only to make her stop in her run. He actually was more than a bit intrigued at what he saw in the boy that was 'coming onto him'. Not that he really knew where the words were coming from just that they appeared easily enough in his head.

For Ukyo this was more than just funny. She could almost swear to having seen the most minute flashing of fangs there. "You got fangs!!" Yeah she was again excellently... stupid. Not that it would matter to her the way that she noticed Ranma's hands flying to his chin and lip. 'Are you hiding your fangs!!' Yeah she was again not trying very hard at thinking. "Are you a vampire?" Only this time was she actually looking for an answer to the origin of her curiosities. Not that she would be that miffed not to get an answer from him. She had other plans in mind for the boy. Her father had after all been the sole playmate that she had for those long stretches of time that she was on the road with him. 'Maybe he will marry me...' Trying to look shrewd she was resting her chin on her left hand idly stroking at it in light strokes pulling at the skin. "I can't marry a vampire you see. But still... I think that I could play with you!!" And with that all her apprehension fled her senses. Yet again she was the bouncing Ukyo...

For Ranma all that he had to do was stare at her. 'What is it that she wants? I suppose that I could play?' Nodding at her mention of the word play he just bathed in her presence. It was something that he had never really done before. You could recognize bafflement in his face even from a distance what with the way that his chins puffed up and his eyes took on the size of dinner-plates. "Play!" It was an instinctual recognizal that forced the words through his flushed face. It sounded more like potty than play though. That didn't really matter this time however. He didn't notice when he was hanging onto the trainride that was Ukyo the Duracell kid on Okonomiyaki! Flopping along in with her hand in hand he was wearing a pretty pink shade of embarassment and something else that made him grasp her hand all the more intently...

"YAY!!!" And they were off. Speeding off in the direction of more things that play and play yet more was to become for them. That little smile that was there on his face remained as if plastered onto it. It was a curse really. That was what he thought. Playing away at the days and training in the nights soon a week was passed. He knew that there had been a kind of exchange between that of his father and hers. He had prepared for that moment too...

Pelts upon pelts were stacked on the cart that held the okonomiyaki that he so cherished. Ukyo's eyes were wide open eying the furs with an appreciation that was aching to pain. Peering at her in that moment he saw what would pain him the most. He would leave her here to be. How he knew that he would not understand the thought being one that was far beyond his current level of understanding. It was enough to make his mind wander all the more.


End file.
